RAABTA

(2)

Sometimes all life could offer is compromises, the sea settles to peace after waving all through the evening, the sun begins with a calm-spreading his rays, the breeze turns poetic, the trees whirl and the birds dance with praise for the new day, new beginning to everything that came to an end.

"Careful," Kinza instructs across the counter, stirring the kasoori methi into the sizzling gravy of butter chicken.

She grabs a spoonful of curry out of the pot towards her lips and tastes, her lips twitch up and eyes close on their own accord, as her cheeks dip, their own territory of dimples stretch through.

A canvas of art that leaves me breathless.

"I told you to be careful," she frowns looking at my hands and I blink, looking down and then do I realise, the flour drools through my fingers, littering the bowl.

"I asked you to knead the aata for roti, not pancakes."

I stare at her glaring face sheepishly and it deepens her frown. "Mamma, look what a mess Reyhan has done."

"Haye! Haye!" Kinza's mother dashes through the kitchen and playfully slaps the side of my arm. Her gently delivered slap barely hurts me, but the message is clear. She is discreetly telling me that instead of helping them, I'm increasing their work load.

"I..I'll just go take a nap," I say, scratching the back of my neck in embarrassment.

Kinza glares at me as I leave, as if to say, yeah, you should go nap because you're clearly lost your last two brain cells. But I don't miss the upwards tug of her lips right before I exit. She enjoys teasing me until I reach my breaking point. And I, in my lovestruckness, accept it with open arms.

In the lounge I plop down on the sofa I have sat on countless times over the years, and rest my head on the cushy pillow. Sleep comes easy to me in the familiar hug of the sofa, and before I know it, I am deeply invested in a dream of purple sunsets and fluffy clouds that are thick enough to be stepping stones to the other planets.

I fly with the birds in my dream, soaring the skies, gliding past the most breathtaking mountains, dipping my fingers in the coldest of waters. I am roussed out of the blissfulness by the sound of two voices going back and forth. Annoyance lace their words.

I try to make sense of where they're coming from. My eyes flutter open just for a second before I realize that I am at Kinza's house, and the voices are very well hers and her mothers. Gluing my eyes shut, I try to tune out their voices because eavesdropping is a sin.

I don't manage to ignore them too long because I hear my name being referenced.

"You are old enough to understand what I am saying," Kinza's mother's voice says. "Reyhan is a young man, handsome not to mention. If you're glued to him 24/7, people will start wondering what's going on. What will you say then?"

"That he's my best friend," Kinza retorts, her voice confident. "You know that, I know that. It's time others understand that too."

"You don't understand that. Enough of this childish drama of boy-girl friendship. If you want a settled life in this society, you need to reevaluate your friendship with him, because it will either sink your ship or sail it."

"What does that mean?" My best friend's tone is getting more and more annoyed. "Those who may have a problem with my friendship with Reyhaan...we don't need them in our lives."

"You silly, silly girl." There is silence for a few seconds, before Aunty continues, "I don't know how to explain this to you, you do what you wish all the time. Just don't ruin your future in your stubbornness."

"I won't."

"Fine. Ja meri maa, go wake him up. The food is getting cold."

"Oh, I'll wake him for sure." There's a sinister edge to her tone, like she's in a mood to have fun.

For a second the blackness behind my closed lids blind me, curtain me from the light of the room and take me to a place where my heart resides.

That particular organ mockingly tells me the truth. The one truth I have set out to deny every single day.

The truth is that I love Kinza and she doesn't know.

I am her world but not in the sense she is to me.

She is my whole universe, the orbits I take refuge, the milky way I swim without a worry, the galaxy I call home, the cluster of stars that brighten my life.

In short-my everything.

Before betrayal of her feelings seeped through my veins, a splash of cold water hit the surface of my skin. I jerk awake in a panic.

My earlier thoughts vanish with the water droplets that drip through my forehead to the stubble in my chin.

Heaps of laughter fill my eardrums and I usually miserably fail to glare the intruder.

"Kinza, when are you growing up?" Her mother shakes head and walks up to me to hand me a towel. "I tell you Reyhaan, start drawing boundaries, this girl has become crazy."

"Boundaries?" Kinza immediately jumps towards me and pushed me back on the sofa. "Sorry," she sheepishly mouths and goes behind my back to dry my hair with the towel.

I remain too perplexed with the cold.

"We are not setting any boundaries," Kinza says, "Reyhaan is my best friend."

Aunty comes out of the kitchen with a platter of salad in her hand. "What will you do after he marries someone, she will definitely set boundaries around him?"

"Mom-" Kinza snapped but I cut her.

"That won't happen," I finally opened my mouth.

"Shadi nai karni?" Kinza comes to my front.

"Haan," I say, looking from the teak wood floor to her face.

"Will you let your wife dictate our friendship then?"

"That's what would not happen."

"How?" Aunty takes a stand beside Kinza.

"Because if I ever get to marry..," I wipe my face with my hand to hold myself together, even though we have touched the topic in a kidding way I no longer have in myself to hide my feelings.

"If I ever get to marry someone, then I want that someone to be you," I breathe out.

The ticking of the clock resonates through the chambers of my heart. Kinza stares at my irises in shock, her honeywells of pupils search every nook and cranny. Sadly, wherever the rays of her sight reach, she only sees the truth behind my words. Because at last I have unveiled my emotions in front of her.

It all feels like an eternity.

The skin below her eyes tightens, challenging me to laugh out loud, tell this was all a joke but I stand still. But, the traitor in my chest, the piece of flesh that melted on the first ever meeting we met nearly a decade ago freezes to her glare.

"Akal ghaans khaane gayi hai kya?"

***